One, Two, Three
by esompthin
Summary: Destiel. Cas gets hypnotized and can't keep his hands off Dean. Sam has to solve the case more or less on his own.


Did anyone see Chris Jones hypnotize Howie Mandel? Google it.

* * *

"Hey, whoa, hold on, Cas, right? What's that short for? Cassie? Cass- that's a girl's name, ain't it? Sorry about ya' man." The man said, he was a rambler when he was nervous or scared. And right now, damn, was he scared; looking small and defenseless on front of a furious ex-angel of the Lord. He was backing up into a wall, his hands up to protect himself, although they wouldn't do much good against Castiel's angel blade. "I'm- I'm sorry! I won't do it again! I swear!"

"You killed people." Castiel stated, still advancing on the man.

The man's back hit the wall, he had no where else to go. His heart was pounding in his ears and his eyes were wide with terror, "No! No, I didn't! I swear I didn't!" He nearly cried, his hands were shaking and he wanted nothing more than to get the scary ex-angel away from him.

Or so Cas thought. But then, in one quick movement, the man brought his hands up to cup Castiel's face. He looked the ex-angel in the eye as he said darkly, "But you will."

Before Cas could do anything, the man hissed quietly, "One, two, three, sleep!"

And the angel blacked out.

* * *

It was a dark, abandoned apartment building on the edge of town. Why couldn't it ever be a bright, busy hotel in the middle of the city? That had air conditioning? And was rat-free?

Whatever. Sam and Dean were looking through the bottom floors; seeing if any of the missing people were hidden down there. Cas had went ahead to the upper floors, with the promise that he'd come get them if he needed help.

"There's nothing here, Dean." Sam said as he came out of another empty apartment. "Are we sure these people are still alive?"

Dean walked down the dirty hall, stepping around a pile of –what was that? A couch? "I don't know, man. Why would it kill the people? We still don't know the motive."

"Or the monster." Sam muttered, pointing towards the stair case, "Let's head up and see what Cas found."

"Alright." Dean led the way up four flights of rickety stairs to the top floor. His flashlight beamed on the beautiful artistic work of water spots and mystery stains on the walls. But no people; no bodies, no blood. And no monster.

When they got to the top floor, they heard something that sounded distinctly like a crash. Sam and Dean made quick eye contact before storming into the room it came from. What they found was Cas holding a small man in the air, his angel blade held threateningly to the man's neck. The man was crying, trying to move away from the blade, but with no where to go. He was wearing tattered clothes and skin shown was smeared with dirt and grime. The man saw the Winchesters, "Oh! Thank God! Please! Help! Help me!" He said through choked sobs. "This man's crazy!"

The brothers slowly made their way to the two. "Cas, who is he?"

"A monster." The ex-angel replied simply, shoving the man further back into the wall. Dean didn't know Cas had that much strength, he thought it was lost with Cas's angel mojo.

"A bum!" The man said quickly, his eyes wide and pleading, "I have nothing! I do nothing! I live here- please! Tell him to drop the knife!" He was staring at the brothers now, eyes flicking desperately from Sam to Dean. "Please, what- whatever you want, you can have it. I have a bag of Cheetos in the corner over there. Take it! It's all I got."

Sam turned to Cas, "Are you sure this is our guy? He looks worse than you did when you…" Sam didn't finish that sentence because Cas hadn't moved his eyes away from the man since they came in. He hardly acknowledged the brothers' existence. It was a huge difference from the eye sex Cas and his brother were having just hours before. Sam moved closer to the guy, catching a glance at Castiel's eyes. They were dark and blank; far different than the expressiveness they'd grown to have. "Cas?"

Dean caught on too. He lowered his gun, which was pointed at the man, and walked to Cas's other side, examining him closely. Dean pressed a hand to Cas's arm and the other man didn't react in any way. The hunter turned on the other man, bringing his gun up threateningly, "What did you do to Cas!?"

The man's eyes grew impossibly wider, "What?! No- nothing!" He turned to look at Sam, who still looked slightly doubtful, "I swear! I swear! He just came in and started attacking me!"

The brothers thought for a moment and then narrowed their eyes. Cas wouldn't just attack a helpless, homeless person. The man rolled his eyes and sighed, "Alright. Fine. Playing innocent doesn't work with you two. Hunters really don't trust anyone, do they?" He said, cracking his knuckles a bit. "Cassie, please take care of them."

He snapped his fingers and Castiel turned on Dean quickly. The man turned his attention to Sam, who held up his gun. The man glared into Sam's eyes and held out one hand, "That's not a toy. You could hurt someone. Give me that." He snapped and suddenly Sam was handing over his only weapon to the other man. Sam's eyes widened as he saw his pistol in the man's hand.

"You're- you're?" The younger Winchester's mind was spinning, trying to figure out what could do _whatever it is_ this guy just did.

"Bored." The man supplied, looking Sam in the eye. Then his face lit up as he said, "Hey, look over there!" Sam, for the life of him, couldn't _not look_. When he blinked and looked back, the man punched him hard in the nose. The hunter stumbled back in surprise, his hand coming up to inspect his face.

The man turned to Cas and Dean, who were wrestling on the floor. Dean's gun was knocked far away from him and Cas's blade was no-where to be seen. The two were grunting with concentration and effort. Cas tried to punch Dean, but the other rolled them over so Cas was pinning Dean down. The man tilted his head a big and called out boredly, "Cassie, do make this more interesting, would you?"

Sam was about to tackle the small man, it wouldn't be hard to hold him back, considering their size difference. But then Cas did something that made Sam freeze in spot.

* * *

Dean wasn't going to admit he was kinda into wrestling with Cas. He wouldn't admit that if he was down in the Pit, with Lucifer himself torturing him. But, really, could you blame him?

Cas turned on Dean quickly, immediately forgetting the man, his full attention on Dean; his gaze dangerous and heated. Dean pulled his gun up to aim at Cas, but he knew he wouldn't be able to pull the trigger. He took calculated steps away from the ex-angel.

But that seemed useless, because then Cas full-on tackled Dean, knocking both of them to the ground. Dean's gun slid away from them and he heard Cas's blade clatter to the ground nearby. Dean turned to find Cas practically straddling him, a hand pressed down on Dean's chest for balance, the other pulled back and ready to punch. Dean gripped Cas's thighs, he didn't think about how muscular they were, and flipped them over, trying to pin Cas down. The ex-angel tried kicking him, although that just failed awkwardly. Dean had one of Cas's hands pinned to the dirty ground. His wrist flexed beneath Dean's palm.

The angel foresaw Dean trying to punch him and he gripped Dean by the shoulder and threw the other off him. He climbed onto Dean again, not letting him get up. Dean didn't shiver when one of Cas's hands brushed against his stomach when his shirt ridded up a bit.

Dean almost didn't hear the other man's voice from the other side of the room, saying, "Cassie, do make this more interesting, would you?"

 _More interesting?_ Dean thought. _This couldn't get any better._

The rough, hard body pressing against his; the small gasps and grunts being let out by the other man, the face inches away from his at all times, the weight on top of him that occasionally slid in just the right places… How could this get any more interesting?

Well, Dean's been wrong before.

Something in that man's words made Cas's entire expression change. It went from determined and destructive to one of adoration and something Dean saw in Sam's eyes when he looked at Jess. Cas's entire body melded into Dean's, pressed against him in a way that was far different than just them fighting.

Without hesitation, Cas pressed his lips to Dean's. And the hunter's world stopped. Dean's eyes widened in surprise and he was torn between pulling away and pushing closer. He had no way to pull away, seeing as how Cas had him pinned. Dean could hear the man laughing and he could see Sam staring, dumbfounded, out of the corner of his eye.

Dean had to pull away. He had to. Sam was watching.

But holy shit, was that Cas's tongue? He couldn't ignore that. Dean's hand found itself in a mess of black hair and pulled Cas closer to him; making the kiss deeper. Cas moaned into Dean's mouth. And Dean defiantly wanted to hear that again.

The hunter's other arm was wrapped around Cas's waist, holding him close. Cas pulled away from Dean's lips and Dean let out a little whimper of protest that turned into a loud moan when Cas's mouth latched onto Dean's neck.

* * *

The man laughed as Cas just _fucking went for it_ and kissed Dean passionately. "Okay! Not what I was expecting! But, yeah! Good! Keep doing that." He got a breathy moan in response.

His smile fell as he turned to the still-shocked Winchester. "As for you." Sam's eyes snapped to him and away from his brother, who was most defiantly grinding on an ex-angel of the Lord. The man's hand darted up and he pressed two fingers to Sam's forehead, "One, two, three, sleep!"

Sam's eyes closed instantly and his chin rested on his chest. He stayed standing, his body still as a statue. The man walked around him, speaking softly, "Listen to my voice, now. You hear? You don't remember me or anything that happened here. You still think your looking for some demons. Or perhaps a monster. As for your nose, you tripped up the stairs. You're kind of clumsy, given your size and all. You sent Dean up here to look with Cas. And you're seeing these two like this for the first time." He smiled when he heard a long moan from the other side of the room. "I was never involved, right? When I snap my fingers, you'll be awake. Understand?"

The man walked slowly to the door, watching as one Winchester was fast asleep and the other was living his dream. He backed out and pulled the door until it was cracked just wide enough to slip his hand through. He snapped and said, "One, two, three… Awake." Then he disappeared down the stairs.

(LINES?)

Sam opened his eyes to find Dean and Cas getting borderline rated R. Dean's hand was cupping Cas's ass and by the little sounds the two were making, it wouldn't be long before there was no clothes between them at all.

"Whoa!" Sam yelled, and adverted his eyes because he _did not need to see that_. "Dean! Cas! What the hell!? I thought we were looking for the monster!"

Only when Dean hears the bewilderment in Sam's voice does he reluctantly push Cas away. He got the two of them into a sitting position; Dean in some awkward form of cross-legged and Cas on his knees, leaning in close to Dean. "Um, yeah. Yeah. The guy. Where'd he go?" Dean tore his eyes away from Castiel's and stared at Sam with as much concentration as he could muster, which was really hard to do when Cas leaned forward and latched his mouth onto Dean's neck again.

Sam stared at the angel, who was mumbling quiet words in Enochian into Dean's neck. "What guy?"

"The one, uh, the one that was doing the killers." Dean mumbled, subconsciously tilting his head back so Cas had more room. "He got 'way."

Sam couldn't hold back the question anymore, "What's wrong with Cas?"

Dean glanced at the ex-angel as his fingers made slow circles on Dean's shirt. Cas was staring at Dean's lips, mumbling quietly in a language Dean couldn't understand. He was impossibly close to Dean, and hadn't looked at Sam once.

The older brother shrugged and looked at Sam, "I think it was that guy. He did something to Cas."

Still not knowing what guy Dean was talking about, Sam nodded slowly. "Okay. So. Um. Back to the motel?"

"Yeah. Motel."

Castiel moved with Dean as the hunter stood up. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean's waist and held him close. Dean stared at the other man, who was Cas, but also wasn't. His Cas would never be this…physical or romantic or chick-flick-y or whatever. His Cas thinks their just friends.

But this Cas clung to Dean's arm the entire way to the Impala. This Cas pouted when he had to sit in the back, away from Dean.

Dean nearly jumped a mile when this Cas's hands slid around Dean's seat while he was driving and started giving him a shoulder massage. Dean nearly swerved into the other lane twice.

Sam muttered to himself about how he'll be driving from this point one until Cas is fixed.

* * *

The trio took one step into the motel room before Cas tackled Dean again. Dean fell to the ground, landing on his back. Cas quickly invaded his space; Dean didn't have time to react before Cas was sucking on his neck again. "Son of a bitch, Cas!" Dean hissed, and Sam wasn't sure if it was because Cas was really good at kissing or if Dean was just frustrated it was happening.

Dean looked up at his brother for help, but Sam had only one idea. He picked up his duffle bag and started backing out, "So, you figure this out. I'm getting my own room."

"Sam? Sam!" Dean shouted, but his little brother was already gone.

Cas took that as the cue to start undressing Dean. The ex-angel pulled off Dean's shirt easily and happily began exploring the newly found skin with his mouth.

Dean tried not to enjoy it as much as he was. He tried to stop the persistent, brainwashed ex-angel. "Cas." He tried to say, but it came out more like a moan, "Cas, you have to stop."

The ex-angel only seemed to pay attention to Dean's mouth when he was kissing it.

"Please, Cas." Dean said quietly. His throat was dry and he was mostly focused on the concept that his Cas wouldn't ever do something so… blasphemous, especially not with _Dean._ "This isn't you."

The words stopped Castiel in his tracks. When he looked up at Dean, the hunter's breath was taken away, because the dark eyes that Cas had been looking at him with had vanished, and before him was his Cas. The light, expressive eyes that looked back at him were 100% Angel of Thursday. Cas crawled up to Dean's head, so he could look at Dean properly.

Castiel's hands were shaking as they gently cupped Dean's face. Dean's eyes widened as tears began to form in Cas's eyes. "I'm sorry, Dean." Cas whispered quietly, "But I can't."

Dean watched as those eyes grew dark again and Cas brought his lips to Dean's. But this kiss wasn't like the others before it. What it lacked in rough, desperate need, it made up for in a soft, loving embrace. There wasn't tongue and teeth and begging for more. There was just gentle, hesitant hoping for the best.

This kind of kiss was far more impactful for the Winchester than the horny making-out. Yeah, that was fun too. But this: Cas holding him like he was something fragile, looking at him like he was the most precious thing in the world, Cas gently brushing Dean's hair with his fingers and whispering soft words of admiration… This feels like the kind of things Dean dreams about; the kind of things Dean thought he'd never have with Cas.

It felt like love.

When Cas pulled away, his fingers traced Dean's lips lazily, "I'm drawn to you, Dean." He said quietly. His other hand was settled perfectly over the handprint on his shoulder. "I can't fight it." He gave Dean a small peck on the lips, "It's too strong."

Dean knew it couldn't be real. Of course Cas was fighting this the entire time. He didn't let his disappointment show, he nodded solemnly, "It's okay, Cas. Just keep fighting. We'll gank this sonofabitch ASAP and then you'll be back to normal, alright?"

Cas buried his face in Dean's neck and nodded, mumbling against Dean's skin, "Yes, Dean. I'll try." The hunter tried not to shiver as Cas's lips moved against his neck.

* * *

Sam decided he was going to do some research while Dean and Cas, uh, figure things out. He smartly was listening to music while he worked. He didn't trust the motel's thin walls.

Dean made it sound like they were dealing with just a regular person. But a human couldn't just kidnap nine people on the same day, could they?

Sam went through his notes of the victims again. They were all completely different people, living different lives. They had different jobs; different neighborhoods, different churches and religions, different everything. These people had no connection to each other at all. So, what would be the motive?

He doubted it was a vengeful spirit or demon. They would've known by now.

Maybe Dean was right, maybe they were just dealing with a regular-old American Psycho.

Whatever it was, it was smart. All the clues the brothers collected thus far led them to that apartment building. But that was a total bust. It just ended with Sam having some mental scarring. It was so bad, his mind blocked out part of what he saw.

Whatever it was, it could completely destroy Cas. Sam's never seen him act that way. It made him want to figure this thing out faster than before.

Sam looked over at his notes _again_.

Vic Number One was a bartender.

Vic Number Two was a mechanic.

Vic Number Three was a police officer.

Vic Number Four was a teacher.

Vic Number Five was an unemployed alcoholic.

Vic Number-

Wait. Sam had an idea. He reached around for his phone and called the local police station. When they picked up, Sam said, professionally, "Hi, this is Agent Gabriel. I'm working the case of the nine people that went missing last Tuesday. Yeah, I wanted to know, by any chance, did they all visit the same bar? On the same day?" Sam rolled his eyes, how stupid can police officers be sometimes? It was their job to crack the case and they didn't think about looking at the security tapes or anything? "Yeah, that's all. Thank you."

He sent Dean a text and grabbed his coat and headed out the door.

Investigating Mikey's Tavern. Local Bar.

He didn't get a reply; although he wasn't expecting one.

When Sam got to the bar, it was open mic night and some girl was up on stage reading poetry about time. It was a dark little tavern, with the bar at the entrance and a small sitting area on the side in front of the little stage.

Sam walked up to the bar tender and flashed him his fake FBI badge. "Hey, hi. Agent Gabriel. Are you Mikey?"

The bartender shook his hand and replied, "No, Mikey was the previous bar tender. I'm North."

If Dean were here and not sucking face with an ex-angel, he'd probably make some stupid joke like, 'North of what?'

Sam nodded to the small crowed of people, "How's business after the, uh, missing people?"

North shrugged, "It comes and goes. I don't think those missing people had anything to do with this place, though."

"Where you here when it happened?" Sam asked, watching as the girl climbed down from the stage and slunk into a chair near the front.

"Yeah." North said, wiping his hands on a towel.

"Did anything weird happen?"

"Not that I remember."

"Nothing at all?" Sam prodded. This had to be the place, it was the only thing the vics had in common.

North sighed a long, drawn out breath. "Sorry, Agent. I couldn't tell you, even if I wanted to."

Sam's eyebrows pressed together in confusion, "Why not?"

"Don't remember it. Nothing at all. I was back here, just started my shift, giving some guy a drink, and then I was locking up. Everything in between is completely gone." He leaned against the bar in front of him, shrugging slightly as he said, "Next day, nine people are missing."

Didn't that shoot up red flags. Sam glanced at the camera on the ceiling in the corner, "Can I look at your security tapes? See what happened that day?"

"Nope." North said, his eyes tired, like he's awnsered this question before.

Sam frowned, people don't just say no to the Winchesters. Even civilians. They're FBI. You say yes to whatever the FBI wants. That's why the brothers got the badges. "Why not?"

North's voice was quiet when he said the next words, "Cuz I deleted them."

The hunter blinked rapidly, trying to process that information. All he could do was ask a strained, "Why?"

"Dunno. Don't remember doing that either."

Sam decided North was probably either a) a victim or b) suffering from unfortunate bursts of amnesia, either way would make him c) completely and utterly useless.

"Right." Sam sat down on one of the bar stools, and pulled out his wallet. "A beer, then."

North nodded and wandered off after getting Sam his drink. The Winchester observed the bar, slowly taking it all in. Some duo was singing a song on stage drunkenly. They finished with some off-key notes and then wobbled back to their table, laughing and hiccupping the entire way.

"Wasn't that interesting?" Some old guy said to another at a nearby table.

The second shrugged and said, "I still think it'd of been funnier if they threw up while singing."

"You're one sick son of a bitch."

Sam briefly wondered if that was what he and Dean would be like when their old; if they ever live that long. Before he had much time to mull it over, a small, scrawny guy in a ratty jacket was on stage, talking loudly into the mic.

"How many of you think hypnosis isn't real?" The man said.

The old guy from before snorts loudly, "Here he is again."

"This guy needs to get a life."

"And a new shirt."

The men snickered together as the guy on stage continued. "Alright, you five, come here. Come here. I'm Alex the Great and I will defiantly be changing your mind today."

Sam leaned over to the old me, "Hey, is he here often?"

"You new?" The first guy asked, his eyes brushing over Sam quickly, unimpressed.

The second one answers, "Oh, yeah. He's been coming here every two days or so for the last two weeks."

Sam nodded his thanks and turned back to the man, Alex or whatever, on stage. He had a girl up there with him, the girl who was reading poetry. "And, finally," The man said, his hands were in front of the girl's face, although Sam couldn't really tell what he was doing, "One, two, three, sleep!"

He snapped and the girl's body slumped. Her shoulders relaxed and her eyes closed, her chin rested against her chest. "Now, listen to my voice, Donna. When I tell you, you'll wake up and everything will be fine. But you won't remember the number ten. Ten doesn't exist in your world. When you wake, there won't be a number between nine and eleven. Alright?"

Alex the Great doesn't wait for an answer or anything, he turns from the sleeping girl to the small audience and winks, "Watch this, now. One, two, three, awake." He snapped and the girl woke up, looking around the room a bit.

"Alright, dear." Alex walked back to the girl. "I'm going to ask you some questions now. Alright?"

She looked slightly out of it and it took her a moment to hesitantly nod.

"What's your name?"

"Donna Nobel."

"Where are you?"

"Mikey's Tavern."

"What did you order?"

"Just a beer with a lime."

Alex nodded encouragingly, "Yes, good. Now, just one more question, Donna." He turned to the audience and grinned before turning back to the girl, "Can you count from 1 to 11 for me?"

"Of course." She said, nodding slightly, "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, eleven." The audience members stared at each other in awe, some teens laughed at the confusion on Donna's face. She repeated the numbers to herself, trying to find the thing missing.

"Can you try counting on your fingers?" Alex asked helpfully.

Donna nodded and counted again, she held up her fingers as she did so. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine…." She looked at the hand that had all but one finger up, "Nine… eleven… Nine…"

The audience smiled broadly as Alex laughed, and pulled a napkin and pen from his pocket, "Let's try again, here, write it down? Maybe a bit of muscle memory will kick-start things?"

"Yeah, okay." Donna said, taking the items form him and writing down the numbers. She paused when she got to nine again. "Am I missing something?"

"How many fingers do you have?" Alex asked.

"More than nine." Donna replied.

Sam smirked slightly, taking a sip from his beer. Something about this guy was familiar to Sam. He couldn't pin point it, but there was something itching in the back of his mind when Sam watched him.

Alex took the paper and wrote on the back of it. He handed it to the girl and said, "Say this, out loud, to yourself."

Donna nodded and held up the paper, "Go to sleep." Not a second after she said it, her eyes shut and she was knocked out.

"Alright, Donna. When I snap, you'll have woken up. You probably won't remember any of this, but that's alright; you'll at least remember ten." Alex said, he held up his fingers and said, "One, two, three… Awake." He snapped and she woke up, looking confused as to why she was on the stage.

"Donna, can I ask you something?" Alex asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

The woman nodded, confusion still written across her face, "Yeah?"

"How many fingers do you have?"

"Ten. Why?"

The audience cheered in astonishment; applauding to the hypnotist. Alex took a bow, saying, "Thank you, thank you."

Donna stumbled off stage, still looking confused. When she sat down at her table, she whispered something to her friends that made them laugh. She was still confused.

Sam pulled out his phone as Alex the Great started saying, "I'll do another! Who wants to volunteer?"

The Winchester was halfway through texting a message to Dean when his arm lifted high into the air uncontrollably. Alex cheered, "Yes! You in the back! Tall guy who needs a hair cut."

Sam looked up and saw the man on stage staring at him with a wide smile. The hunter looked up at his hand that he couldn't lower on his own. Alex caught his attention by saying, "Don't' be shy." They made eye contact as he continued, "Come up here."

Sam set down his phone, his body moving on its own accord, as he made his way through the crowd to the stage.

The message was left unsent.

 _What about a hypnotist?_

* * *

Tell me what you think.


End file.
